Let It Snow
by StoryLake
Summary: Sarah is home for the holidays. There's snow, apprehension, and someone moonlighting as a birthday party magician, but is it too soon? An icy short complete in three parts.
1. Chapter 1

**Let It Snow**

_A seasonal fan fiction.  
_

**One**

There was something wrong with the snowman.

Sarah was hiding from Toby and his sugar cookie-fueled high spirits. She was ensconced within the bay window overlooking the winter-wonderland backyard that had earlier played host to her little brother and several of his friends. December wasn't always the best month to have a birthday; too many combination presents and too long of a wait for the big month to roll around again. This year though, an especially snowy week that had featured not one, but _two_ snow days had given way to a clear and sunny weekend and a snow pile with just the correct degree of melt to yield amazing snowballs that could be packed and rolled into any number of creations. That Toby, celebrating his sixth birthday, would choose something as mundane as a snowman, came as something as a surprise to Sarah.

Last year they had made an entire menagerie of snow animals: crocodiles, bears, dogs, and Sarah's personal favorite, owls. The year before, they had stomped out a twisted maze, molding the sides and creating openings where they pleased. A snowman seemed downright boring by comparison. Sarah drummed her fingers on the cover of the deadly dull book she was supposed to be reading for her sociology class as she stared out through the frosted glass. Of course, she hadn't had anything to do with this latest winter creation. Perhaps the influence of so many of the under-eight set had dulled the inspiration, but still… Something seemed off with the snowman. It had the standard three snowballs stacked top to bottom in increasing size and the requisite carrot nose and charcoal eyes. It stood nearly as tall as Sarah, an impressive feat considering none of its builder's heads reached above her collarbone.

Sarah squinted at it and frowned, trying to place what was bothering her.

All at once she knew what it was. Like a shot, she was up out of her seat, grabbing her coat and stumbling into her boots and out the door. She pushed quickly through the drifts that had snuggled up to the garage and made a beeline for the snowman. Up close, it was even taller than she had thought, but what caught her eye was the odd bony collar it bore around its icy neck. Toby had brought an old throw out to tie around it like a cape, probably in homage to his favorite superhero, but the bony collar protruding upwards reminded her with surprising forcefulness of an oddly menacing cloak she had seen years ago. She bit her lip and tasted blood, blinking in the too-bright afternoon sunshine. Tentatively, she reached up to the collar, only pulling her hand away at the last moment when she realized it was made, not of bones, but of icicles.

Of course. Icicles.

She didn't realize she'd been holding her breath until it released in a steamy cloud that threatened to cave-in the chin of Toby's creation. Stepping back, she shook her head at her own foolishness. _Get a grip, Sarah. _ _ Just because you're back here for the holidays, surrounded by glitz and glitter, doesn't mean you should be thinking of…_ she brought herself up short as movement out the corner of her eye caught her attention.

Caught on the snowy branch of a hydrangea bush, poised amidst its brown and fragile blossoms, a scrap of glittering blue fabric moved gently in the light breeze. Sarah froze, her heart leaping into her mouth, which all of its own volition was muttering, "no, no, no, oh no…". She backed up, eyes never leaving the impossible sight, then abruptly whipped around and sprinted back toward the house, feet sliding in the snow, breath coming in great gasps. She rounded the corner and nearly slammed into her father, who was just surveying the buried driveway, ergonomic shovel neatly in hand. She slid to a stop, panting. "Toby?" It was a question that emerged as a shout. Her father frowned, shook his head. Sarah bit back a sob and pushed past him, bursting through the front door and shaking snow all over her stepmother's meticulously clean foyer. "Toby!" she called again. The house was achingly quiet.

Ignoring everything except her fear, Sarah plunged up the stairs, still calling for her brother. Every empty room she peered into caused her panic to escalate. There was a roaring in her ears, like a great wave poised to break upon her head. _No, no, no, please God no, not Toby. No!_ She pounded back downstairs and continued to search, slamming through the kitchen door just as her stepmother emerged from the basement, laundry basket balanced on one prominent hip. A question sprang into her eyes as she spotted the storm that was Sarah rushing towards her.

"Toby?" asked Sarah, eyes flashing. "Have you seen Toby? Where is he?"

The older woman was alarmed by the unexpected force of Sarah's question and dropped the full basket at her feet. The dull thud seemed to ground her, for the gaze she turned to her stepdaughter was accusing, yet calm. "For heaven's sake, Sarah, look what you made me do." She bent down and picked up a couple pieces of clothing that had fallen out. Sarah wanted to scream her frustration.

"I've got to find Toby! Do you know where he is?"

"He went to the park with his friends." She moved impatiently past Sarah and pushed the laundry basket against the wall with one slippered foot, sniffing slightly as though detecting something disagreeable. "Is there a problem, Sarah?"

"Yes. No. I don't know." Sarah was conscious of her wild appearance. "Maybe." She shoved her hands into her pockets so her stepmother couldn't see her clenching and unclenching them. "You shouldn't let him go to the park alone."

The other woman let out an exasperated sigh. "It's perfectly safe, Sarah, and he's not alone. I just told you that."

Sarah swallowed hard. That was precisely what she was afraid of.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:**_ I do not own the characters or concept of Labyrinth, I just like to play with them! _

**Two**

Sarah left her stepmother and the laundry and retraced her steps back outside. Her father was tidying the edges of the driveway, erasing all traces of earlier footsteps and whistling, some kind of Christmas tune. He looked up as Sarah rushed past.

"Slow down, Sarah. You'll break your neck."

Sarah stopped briefly and glared at him. "I can't believe you let a bunch of six-year olds go to the park alone!" Her breath, rising visibly in the frosty air, lent her words extra fire. She saw him wince slightly as though burned.

"They're not alone, Sarah. That magician from the party went with them."

Sarah was perfectly still, trying to fully grasp the crystalline edges of some thought too terrible and sharp to be real. She struggled to remember the party, but for most of it she had hidden in her room. "What magician? I didn't realize you had an entertainer come to Toby's party." She spoke slowly, but impatience flared. She was wasting time, needing to be done with the conversation. Her father smiled benignly and patted her arm with one thickly mittened hand.

"You should have seen him, Sarah. This guy was a _professional_."

Despite herself, Sarah smiled, remembering other parties in years past. "Balloon animals?" she asked wistfully. Her father shook his head.

"Not this guy. He did this thing with these crystal balls. It was amazing!"

Sarah's eyes opened wide at that and her smile disappeared. "Crystal balls?"_ No, oh no, please__ no..._

Her father nodded. "It was incredible, the way he moved them, not really like any juggling I've ever seen, more like…" he trailed off, searching for words.

Sarah jumped in and finished for him, a sick feeling twisting in her gut. "Like they were weightless, like soap bubbles he could just blow around." Her voice sounded dull. Her father nodded again and would have continued, but she waved him silent. She didn't wait to hear any more. She had to find Toby. She had to make sure he was safe, make sure he _stayed_ safe. She wouldn't let him be a victim of the collision between his sister's tendency to attract trouble and his parents' half-assed parenting.

She jogged down the street as fast as her booted feet and the somewhat slippery conditions would allow. The park her brother liked to play in was a very short distance from the house, just down at the end of the street. The builders had dead-ended the road only a few hundred yards from a river, and a small wood and even smaller meadow had been allowed to remain where they were. The neighborhood association had cleared one corner of the meadow, planted grass and put in a playground (which was always deserted), a tennis court (ditto) and a small shelter with picnic tables (heavily frequented by birds).

As soon as Sarah passed the last house, just before the cul-de-sac that fronted the park, she heard her brother. His clear, high laughter rang out from a grassy area, well-covered with thick snow, just out of her sight behind the shelter. She felt a knot in her stomach loosen, but she still picked up her pace, crossing through the shelter with its tables all askew. She stopped finally when she passed once more into the open. In front of her, Toby and two of his friends were enacting a most disturbingly familiar tableau.

They had made a royal court, with a throne front and center in which her brother was laughingly seated. He friends were capering madly in front of him, much to his delight, looking for all the world like largish goblins. Toby was swinging a long, thin stick back and forth, hitting it against his leg like someone possessed of a riding crop but no horse might be wont to do. The resemblance to a certain Goblin King was unsettling. Toby saw Sarah and waved.

"Sarah!" he shouted gleefully, "I'm going to be King!"

Sarah's mouth twitched in a half smile despite her growing dismay. He was so disarmingly adorable. Her heart clenched at the thought that anyone might try to steal him away again. _Or for the first time, _her traitorous brain helpfully supplied. She supposed being asked to take something didn't exactly imply theft. _And when did I get so diplomatic?_ She shook her head to clear her thoughts and waved back to her brother.

"King of the Snow?" she queried. "King of the Meadow?" Her eyes scanned the surroundings, taking in several more snow sculptures of increasing sophistication.

A trio of lithe cats circled each other's tails just behind Toby's throne. Nearby, an enormous beast appeared to be howling with an open, fanged mouth. A bit further, small figures were doing something with branches and furthest away, by the wood's edge, a figure she couldn't see clearly rose up from the ground with impossibly sturdy-looking wings. _How are those being supported?_ she wondered.

Then she noticed a shape in the shadows of the woods' edge. Something dark glittered.

She made her way through the thick, but thoroughly disturbed snow to the last sculpture. The dark shape had vanished, but Toby came up behind her all smiles.

"Aren't these awesome?" he asked excitedly. His cheeks were flushed red with excitement and cold and Sarah fought the urge to tell him to turn around and run right home.

"I'm going to be King!" he said again, bouncing a bit in his snow boots and grinning up at her.

A voice came out of nowhere like the proverbial bus nobody ever sees until it's too late. "Well not really _King_, more like Prince, but it's still a very important job."

Sarah whipped around, reflexively shoving Toby behind her. A very in-the-flesh Goblin King stood before her, rare and glittering in a cloak of midnight blue. His lips were quirked to one side, not quite smiling.

_Smirking_, thought Sarah. She drew herself up straight. He was taller than she remembered, and twice as beautiful.

"Hello, Sarah," he said softly. His eyes caught and held hers and the sensation was not unlike being quick-frozen.

"Toby," she said in her best big sister no-nonsense voice, "go home now." Toby instantly began to protest but she silenced him with a hand over his mouth, all without taking her gaze from the all-too-real vision in front of her. "_Now,_ Toby!" she gave her little brother a push and he stumbled sideways, obviously confused.

"Do as your sister commands. Ah, ah, ah, none of that!" Jareth placed a restraining arm in front of Toby when the small boy would have pushed back to his sister's side. "Remember, Toby," he drawled, "even a prince must answer to the Queen."

Toby's eyes widened at that and he nodded his head. "Okay, Sarah," he said, "I was getting cold anyway." He turned and ran off in the direction of his friends and the promise of some hot chocolate back at home.

Sarah was dumbstruck. Was he really letting Toby go, just like that?

Jareth sighed, sensing her confusion. "Oh Sarah," he mocked, "always thinking of others before herself."

Sarah's eyes flashed angrily. "Can it!" she said. "I'm not fifteen anymore, Goblin King. You don't scare me. " Almost as an afterthought, she added, "but I _won't_ let you take Toby again." Her heart beat out a staccato rhythm within her chest, so loud she was certain he must hear.

Jareth's smile was wolfish. "Same old Sarah, " he mocked, "still determined to paint me as a villain." He raised one gloved hand to gently place a finger beneath her chin, urging her to look into his eyes.

_I won't show fear,_ thought Sarah, though she was greatly afraid she already was. She met his gaze, cool and calm. "If you didn't come to take back Toby, then why are you here?" The cold was creeping into her boots and she felt icy, top to bottom. There was a long moment of silence as they stared at each other. Why didn't he answer?

"You, Sarah," he said at last, still holding her gaze, finger still at her chin. "I came for _you_."


	3. Chapter 3

**Three **

For the space of a single, indrawn breath, there was silence.

Sarah felt the words drift past her, melting into her skin like snowflakes. Something deep inside, ever shy, raised its head and sniffed the air. With a hiss of dismay, she wrenched her chin from his grasp and stepped backwards. "You have no power over me!" She spoke the words from their last confrontation like a charm and successfully fought the instinct to throw up her arms in ward against him.

His eyes darkened briefly, arched brows narrowing in something that might have been anger or respect; then he laughed.

Sarah gaped at him; whatever she had expected him to do, this wasn't it. Her gaze fell to the last snow figure, the one with the impossible wings. It was a girl, face angled upward and hands raised in supplication, wings spread out from her back like an owl in flight, made from an intricate lattice of ice.

"Is that supposed to be me?" asked Sarah, "because if it is, you've got my face all wrong." Her tone was arch. There were two roads that this conversation could take and she had already cast her shadow down one of them.

Jareth sighed again and now he was somehow behind her. She caught a spicy-sweet scent, like cloves and peaches, as he leaned in close to whisper into her ear.

"Your face is burned into my brain, precious thing." One hand reached up to sweep some snow from her shoulder. "I would _give_ you the wings, dearest. I would give you anything and everything, if you will permit me."

The _thing_ inside her flared up brightly, explosively, like a starving flame given new oxygen. It was too much. Her features were suffused with alarm, which shone like a little sun in her eyes. She glared at him. How _dare_ he come back and try to trick her with his pretty words and smoldering looks! "Get away from me, Goblin King!" she snapped. "I want nothing of yours."

Now it was Jareth who stepped back, a brief look of dismay on his face that was quickly banished, allowing cool detachment to take its place. "You don't mean that," he stated quietly. The winter sun slanted down and set his pale hair on fire, making it a halo of light. Snowflakes glinted there, refusing to melt.

Sarah felt something crack inside of her. She thought he looked like a dandelion.

_Of course dandelions are weeds, _she told herself sternly. Her father was ruthless in his persecution of them. She would be too. "Go away," she told him peevishly. Her lower lip trembled, but only a little bit.

His eyes seemed to be taking her measure, searching her face for something. "I believe I will, precious thing." He pulled his cloak closely around his lean frame. A small strip of fabric appeared to be missing along the lower hem, lending him a slightly ragged look that Sarah found perplexing. It made him seem so _human_.

She suddenly wanted to know the real reason he was there. "Wait." She hesitated, then added, "please."

Jareth nodded his acquiescence. "As ever, I am yours to command."

His words teased at something in the back of her mind. _Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave._ Startled, Sarah looked up quickly.

"But I don't," she said flatly and the thing inside her dimmed. Jareth raised one elegant eyebrow in query.

"Don't what?"

_I don't fear you or love you, _she wanted to say, but found her tongue suddenly unable to form the words. Her mouth was a barren place incapable of speech, her brain a vast glacier, slow and frozen.

Jareth regarded her coolly. "I came too soon." He laughed again, but there was no warmth in the sound. "It would seem that I continue to underestimate you, Sarah." He turned his back to her as though leaving, then stopped and turned again, coming close to her once more like a cat to a heating vent. "I will claim what it mine, precious thing. _I will claim it!_"

Anger triumphed over uncertainty and released her captive voice. "What the _hell_ do you think is yours?" Now it was her turn to stride away and back again, the two of them performing some dance-by-rote, circling around an unknown _something_. She stopped again. "How is it you came to be here anyway, Goblin King? I certainly didn't call you." She was struck by a terrible thought, "Did Toby…?"

Jareth waved one leather-clad hand, clearly growing bored with the whole subject. "I believe I would prefer to leave further discussion for another time. I…"

"But you told him he'd be a prince! Why would you do that? Toby's not your prince and I'm _not_ your Queen! Not now, not ever!"

"Hush, Sarah," whispered Jareth, closing the remaining space between them.

Suddenly he was _thisclose_ and the thing inside Sarah reared up and became incandescent, revealing some long-dormant need.

It was, after all, the easiest thing in the world to lean into him, lips tilting upward for the inevitable kiss. Sarah closed her eyes, waited, then opened them again. He was looking at her with undisguised hunger, but even as she registered it, he pulled back.

"Not yet, precious thing," he murmured, and it seemed to Sarah that he was fading into the backdrop of snow and woods, sliding by like a ghost although he was still right there in front of her.

_Thumpety-thump thump_ went her heart and even though he was almost transparent, she could see him more clearly than ever before. _Thumpety-thump thump. _The lyrics to an old children's song lept into her mind. _He'll be back again someday._

Winter was only beginning, and Toby had many more birthdays stretching out before him like a highway at night, waiting to be illuminated by some great light. Birthdays always needed a little magic, after all.

Sarah smiled, a secret, private smile, and then turned and made her way back to her family.

**_Fin_**

_This little story was conceived as a three-parter and was only ever intended as a brief, icy interlude in the saga of Sarah and Jareth. Also, I was distracting myself from some problems with my much longer Laby-fic; plus, I love holiday shorts. _

**Disclaimer: I do not own the concept or characters from Labyrinth.**


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